A Painting is All I'll Ever Be
by Dark-Silver Galaxy
Summary: A story centered around Mary, and how she felt for the duration of the game (or how I thought she would feel). Takes place before, during, and after the game. One-shot.


**A/N: **A lot of the Ib fanfics I see are about Garry and Ib, so I decided to write one about Mary.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. All rights go to their respective owner(s).

**Warnings: **Spoilers if you haven't beaten the game yet.

**Summary: **A story centered around Mary, and how she felt for the duration of the game (or how I thought she would feel). Takes place before, during, and after the game. One-shot.

* * *

_A painting is what I am, and all I'll ever be…_

* * *

Cold air was the first thing she felt. It was the only thing she felt, until she opened her eyes.

Cerulean blue eyes opened to see a dark ceiling. The room she was in felt inviting and comforting with warmth that chased away the cold.

However, even with the warmth, the cold still remained in her heart.

_Her body was warm, but her heart was cold._

More.

She needed more warmth. She wanted more warmth. She wanted something to take away the cold in her heart.

She found a rose, which was so beautiful she thought it would get rid of the cold in her heart. It didn't.

She found a diary, and began writing.

She found crayons, and began drawing.

She found toys, and began playing.

But it still wasn't enough.

Writing, drawing, playing… none of it was enough to warm her cold heart.

Maybe it was because she was lonely.

Yes, that must be it. She was lonely, and all she had to do was find another person to stay with her forever so she would never be lonely again. All she had to do was find another person she could be friends with…

Unfortunately, finding a friend wasn't as easy as it sounded. People came and went, and they all died in some way or another.

When Garry came, she decided she didn't like him. He didn't seem like the type of person she would get along with, and he wasn't even in her age group.

However, Ib was a different story. She was her age, which meant they could enjoy the same things together. They could be friends and play as long as they wanted. It would be great.

Which was why she wasn't very happy when Ib and Garry met each other. They clicked too well, and it made her feel jealous. So she decided to meet them.

"Mary" was how she introduced herself when they asked. It was her painting's name, after all, so why not use it? When Garry started talking about roses, she decided to keep her identity a secret; after all, her rose was a fake.

Mary traveled with Ib and Garry, and felt happy when she and Ib were finally separated from the 18-year old. It was really a relief to be away from someone she didn't like much.

She talked and walked with Ib as much as possible, and finally she felt a small warmth creep into her chest.

_She had finally made a friend._

Or so she thought.

When Garry discovered her secret, she was forced to leave Ib alone and ended up stabbing a mannequin head.

Then she decided to chase after Ib again. After all, they were friends, weren't they?

But apparently using a palette knife wasn't such a good idea. Perhaps it was the threatening, but Ib looked scared too. It was just Mary's luck that Garry decided to intervene right at that moment, running up the stairs and forcing her fake rose away, all while accidentally knocking her unconscious. The last thing she saw was Ib hugging Garry. How unfair it was that Ib seemed to favor Garry over her.

* * *

When she came to, she found out Garry and Ib were in her world- the one she had created while she was lonely.

She looked for them, but wasn't able to find them until they were looking at the toy box. Still, Ib continued to help Garry, and the two of them managed to escape her toys.

How unfair.

And then they found her painting. They found it, and burned it. She burned along with it… is what they thought.

But no, she was still there.

She was still in the world; her father's world, never to escape and see the outside world for herself.

Never to make friends.

Perhaps it was her fate. However, she refused to believe it. Fate wasn't meant to be so cruel, especially to little girls like her, right?

Or maybe the reason fate was so cruel was because she was a painting. But that was no longer so. When Garry burned her painting, her body was destroyed, but her soul still resided in the world; she could see both sides of the gallery now.

Mary watched as Ib and Garry promised to meet again in the future, and it left an empty hole where her chest should have been.

* * *

_Her body was gone; the warmth was gone, but she could still feel the cold in her heart._

* * *

_A painting is what I am, and all I'll ever be…_

* * *

**A/N:** I had fun writing this. It pleasantly distracted me from my homework =w=Please tell me of any mistakes!


End file.
